Anathema

by Colleen Coble

  “Follow me.” He struck out along an impression of beaten-down grass.

  Fighting his way along the base of the cliff, he held back brambles and bushes for her. The underbrush grew thicker and the silence more oppressive. Hannah wanted to turn and run for the truck. Reece seemed too smug. But Caitlin was somewhere back here, so she trudged on.

  In the distance, she heard the roar of rapids, probably Sugar Creek. With the heavy storms the past few days, it would be in full flood stage. The roar of the water grew louder with every step until they arrived at a battered shack on the shores of the creek.

  He unlocked the padlock on the door. “Step into my parlor,” he said.

  “It’s a sugar shack.” She tried to peer in the window, but it was too dirty and fly-speckled.

  He grabbed her arm. “Hurry up. We don’t have all day. The kid is inside.”

  In a frenzy of movement, Hannah shoved open the door. An old rug had been thrown down on the floor, and inflatable furniture made it seem almost homey. A cot was on the far side of the space, and a little girl lay curled up on it with an afghan thrown over her. She appeared sound asleep. A chain dangled from one small ankle to the cot.

  Hannah moved to the side of the bed. Her vision narrowed and her heart galloped. She looked at the child for the first time. Her child? The unruly auburn hair, the tiny hands fisted, the shape of the toenails and feet. Even the curve of her cheeks and the length of her lashes held an uncanny familiarity for her. She told herself not to let the lid off her hopes. “Is she ours, Reece?”

  “Sure, hon.” Reece put his arm around her, and they stood looking at Caitlin. “I was wrong. I know that now. I want her too. It will be great now that the three of us are together.”

  Hannah wanted to move away, but she didn’t dare. “All these lost years. Why did you give her to Matt?”

  “I heard from Trudy about all the trouble his wife was having getting pregnant. It seemed right that someone should have her who would love her.” His tone suggested he’d done something heroic, something praiseworthy.

  Hannah drank in the sight of her child. She wanted to touch the soft hair, kiss the round softness of Caitlin’s cheek, smell the little-girl scent. She wanted to pull the child onto her lap to experience her weight for the first time. She wanted to recapture every moment that had been stolen from her—the first tooth, the first word, the first stumbling step. Gone—it was all gone. Stolen. Destroyed. It would never come again.

  She whirled and curled her fingers into fists. “How could you, Reece? How could you destroy our family like this?” Leaping at him, she tore at his eyes. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of hair. Kicking and pummeling, she wanted to inflict as much damage as she could. Nothing she did to him would ever be enough to pay him back for what he ’d done to them all.

  He grabbed her in a bear hug and wrestled her to the floor, where she lay pinned under him. Panting, she tried to wrench her arm free. “Let go of me,” she spat. Hatred black as tar and just as immobilizing filled her heart.

  “I will, just as soon as you calm down.” Blood trickled from his mouth, and a red lump formed on his forehead. “You’ve turned into a little spitfire. You’re going to have to learn to obey me, Hannah. Just settle down. I knew you’d be upset once you saw her. She ’s cute, isn’t she? Looks like you. Doesn’t seem to have anything of me in her at all.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe she’s not even mine.”

  “Oh please. You kept me shackled to the house. Who would I have had an affair with?” Strength seeped from her bones and into the cold stone beneath her. What was the use? He always won. He was bigger, stronger, smarter. She lay still and stared up at him.

  With tears blurring his face in her vision, she could almost imagine he wasn’t the monster she thought he was. Maybe everything was her fault. If she’d been a better wife, with a gentler, more submissive spirit, their lives wouldn’t be in this mess. “What do you want from me, Reece? I gave you all I had, and you trampled it.”

  He brushed his lips across hers. “I want you to be a good wife, Hannah. To put me first like you should. I want us to grow old together, to raise our little girl to be a good, obedient woman. Think you can do that?” He released her arms and lifted his weight from her but continued to loom over her body. His stare seemed to prod into her soul as he searched for the truth in her face.

  She breathed in courage. She reached up her hands and cupped his cheeks in her palms. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she whispered. “It was such a shock. All those wasted years . . .” Tears slid from the corners of her eyes and ran down to soak the hair at her temples. “We could have had this time with her and with each other, Reece. I would never put her first. I know it frightened you, but you always came first with me.”

  The hard stare of his gaze softened. “Ah, Hannah, that’s all I ever wanted. For someone to love me and put me first. You don’t know what it was like to grow up knowing no one really cared.”

  “I’m sorry, Reece. You never talked about it.”

  “It hurt too much,” he admitted.

  She put on a stern expression. “I am your wife. I’m here for you to share those things with me. Don’t keep anything from me again.”

  “We ’ll have lots of time together, the three of us.” His lips brushed hers again. Before she could react, he rolled off her and got up. He held out his hand to her and hoisted her to her feet. “I think our daughter is awake. But then, who wouldn’t be with the way you were yelling.” He wrapped a curl of her hair around his finger.

  Hannah’s insides trembled, but she didn’t dare show how he terrified her. She smiled up at him until he released her hair. Then she let go of his hand and turned back to the cot. Caitlin sat with her small feet dangling over the edge of the mattress. Her eyes were round and fearful, and her lips trembled. She twisted her hands in her lap.

  “Don’t be scared, honey,” Hannah said. She approached the bed and knelt in front of the little girl. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Caitlin touched Hannah’s hair. “You have hair like mine. I’ve never seen anyone with hair like mine. Daddy says it’s fairy hair.”

  Hannah managed a smile. “Maybe he ’s right. My name is Hannah.”

  “I’m Caitlin Beitler. My daddy is a sheriff ’s detective. He ’ll be mad that bad man took me.” She pointed at Reece. “Can you take me home now?”

  “Soon,” she whispered too softly for him to hear. She craned her neck to face Reece. “Take off the chain. Give me the key and I’ll let her go.”

  He shrugged. “Just make sure she doesn’t bolt. I don’t want to have to hurt her.” He dug into his pocket and found a small key that he dangled in the air above her head. “Say please.”

  “Please, Reece.” She made a grab for the key and missed. He laughed. Forcing a smile, she grabbed his forearm. “You’re such a tease. Hand it over.”

  He grinned at her sweet tone and dropped the key into her hand. “Thanks!” She stabbed the key into the lock and had Caitlin free in moments. Lifting the child in her arms, she relished the weight of her, the smell of her even through the stink of wet mud. Caitlin’s long hair brushed against Hannah’s arms and mingled with her hair. It was hard to tell whose locks were whose. Caitlin looped her arms around Hannah’s neck, and the trust in the movement nearly buckled Hannah’s knees. She sank onto the cot and held the child close.

  She would never let her go. Never. And she ’d kill anyone who tried to take her.

  twenty-five

  “A pure white quilt with excellent stitching is always prized.

  My mother was a master of the quilt, and she told me white

  was her way of imagining heaven. The Amish strive to lead

  pure and holy lives in order to reach God.”

  —HANNAH SCHWARTZ,

  IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts

  His grandmother had to know something. It all made a kind of weird sense. Matt gripped the steering wheel and gunned the SUV through the water standing on
the road. Ajax whined in the seat behind him. How could Caitlin have disappeared the minute Trudy got her unless she ’d called Reece to come get her? He skidded to a halt in front of the house.

  He and Ajax went to the front door. He didn’t knock. “Trudy?” he called, stepping inside. The house was empty, silent. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen her vehicle outside. Sometimes she kept it in the backyard.

  He walked through the house to the back door. Glancing through the window, he saw no sign of his grandmother’s old blue car. “Maybe she went to the grocery store,” he muttered. Ajax woofed as though he understood what Matt said.

  He wandered down the hall toward Trudy’s bedroom. Irene had told him to ask Trudy about what had happened between them. How could that matter? He glanced around Trudy’s bedroom. Austere with white walls and bedding, it was immaculate. A prominent wardrobe stood in one corner, one he’d never peeked inside. Maybe now was the time. He stepped to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Stacks of quilts were inside. He pulled one out. It had a hummingbird pattern on it.

  Could they be Patricia Schwartz’s quilts? What would Trudy be doing with them? They certainly resembled the ones he ’d seen. A large family album caught his eye. Matt carried it into the kitchen under the light and set it on the counter. Irene had hinted that the seeds of this situation were in the past. Maybe this album would give him some clue.

  He started at the front. The first black-and-white picture showed a young couple staring stiffly into the camera. He recognized Trudy. He assumed the man was his grandfather, though Matt had never seen him. He flipped through more pages and saw his father and Irene at various ages. He’d never realized he looked so much like his dad. He ’d study these pictures later. Right now he had to find his daughter. There had to be something here.

  He turned the page and stopped at a picture of Irene. Hannah had been right. His aunt was clearly pregnant. She looked as though she was ready to give birth any minute. On the next page, the pictures continued as though her pregnancy had never occurred. He studied the previous picture. From the clothing and hairstyle, Matt guessed the date to be in the early seventies. She still wore the long hair and caftan of her hippie days.

  He studied the location. The setting looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t put his finger on where it was. Billie Creek, maybe? Matt tried to remember what his aunt had said about where her commune had been. “Sugar Creek,” he said, snapping his fingers. “That’s what Irene said. But where?” It would be a place to look. Maybe Reece knew about the place.

  Matt turned a few more pages and came to another picture taken by the big creek, which more accurately was as big as a river. He studied one of the women in the photograph. She had the look of Hannah, but the clothing was all wrong. This picture would have been snapped before she was born.

  Maybe Hannah’s mom? He studied the other couple in the picture—Irene and an Amish guy. Must have been Hannah’s dad on his rumspringa. The two sets were clearly paired up by the way they stood. It looked like his dad was seeing Hannah’s mom. He’d never heard that before. He thought back to the arguments in the house before his dad killed himself. It seemed his mom was always unhappy with how much time Dad spent in the barn and away at the greenhouse. Could it have been the Schwartz greenhouse?

  “This is a weird tangle,” he muttered. Ajax whined at the stress in his voice, and Matt rubbed the dog’s ears. Maybe Reece gave the quilts to his grandmother, and she ’d been covering for him. Maybe she ’d even handed Caitlin over to him. He flipped through more pages of the album and stopped beside a newspaper clipping of his grandmother in her mid- to late forties. She was standing with a proud smile beside a white quilt. The caption read “Trudy Beitler Takes First Place at the State Fair with Her Hummingbird Quilt.”

  Matt carried the album into the light so he could see the quilt better. It looked exactly like the pattern Hannah’s mother was famous for. Had she imitated Trudy’s pattern—and found even more success with it? Was that part of the reason for his grandmother’s hatred of the Amish?

  He heard a vehicle in the back and rushed to look out the window. His grandmother’s old car was rolling over the ruts. He started toward the door, but Trudy got out, grabbed a cooler, and hopped back into the vehicle again. What was she doing? He decided not to let her know what he ’d seen just yet. He’d follow her and see if she led him to Reece and Caitlin.

  Matt grabbed the photo album and ran for the SUV. Her car had rumbled away down the back lane, which meandered across an abandoned covered bridge. Where could she be heading? He waited until his grandmother’s old car disappeared into the trees, then set out along the lane in the direction she’d gone.

  There wasn’t much out this way. Forest and steep hills. No real roads even. The land bordered Turkey Run State Park, and his grandmother had turned away every developer who’d come calling. He had time to ensure he wasn’t seen. Trudy owned nearly five hundred acres out this way. He used to hike back here—until she found out. She didn’t like anyone back here but her. And even then, he could count on one hand the times he’d seen her trek this way.

  The SUV rumbled over the bridge, but he wasn’t sure the old structure would hold up anything coming back. The thing was falling down. If Trudy wanted to keep it, she ’d have to do some repair. Rather, he ’d have to do some repair.

  He came to a fork in the road. “Now which way?” he said to Ajax. The dog whined. Matt got out and looked at the muddy track. “That way,” he said, pointing to the left. “Toward the creek.”

  Matt got back in the SUV and turned the vehicle onto an even narrower lane logged with water. He was surprised his grandmother had the nerve to drive this way by herself in a car. The route begged for a four-wheel-drive. She could get stuck back here and never be seen again. The trees encased Matt like a tunnel. The maples and walnut trees grew so high they met above the SUV and turned the landscape to twilight. He could only go five miles an hour without bottoming out.

  The road, if you could call it that, came to an abrupt end. Trudy’s battered blue car was parked just ahead. She wasn’t in it. Matt peered inside the vehicle, then turned back to his SUV and let Ajax out. He took the dog to the driver’s side of Trudy’s car. “Find her, boy.”

  The dog’s nose plunged toward the ground, and his tail began to wag. The jerk on the leash nearly toppled Matt, but he regained his footing and followed along with Ajax on his run to the south. The surroundings were as dark as if it were nine o’clock at night. The mosquitoes began to descend in hordes, and he wished he ’d taken the time to put on some repellent.

  The dog led him down ravines, and they splashed across creeks swollen with rain. “I don’t know how she had the strength to go this far,” Matt said, panting when they paused to catch their breath. Ajax was straining at the leash again, so they were probably close behind her. “Let’s get our bearings before we go any farther.”

  SUNLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH the dirty windows of the old shack. Hannah sat on the cot with Caitlin on her lap. The creek outside had crescendoed to a roar, and vibrations of water hitting rock rattled the wooden structure.

  “When are we leaving, Reece?” she asked.

  “Soon.”

  He seemed nervous, checking his watch every few seconds and going to look out the window. Hannah wondered what he was waiting for. He had her and Caitlin, and there seemed no reason to hang around while the flood-waters rose. Though this old place had been here for years, the forecasters had warned of near-record flood conditions all over the county. Hanging around Sugar Creek seemed a stupid thing to do.

  She rose with her daughter in her arms. “Let’s go now. I’m hungry, and I’m sure Caitlin is too.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What about me? I haven’t eaten either. You never think about me, Hannah.”

  “I’m sorry to complain. I know we’re all tired, hungry, and grouchy.” She smiled up at him. “I’m just eager to get out of here and start our life together, the three of us.”
>
  His glare softened. “Soon.” He turned when the door opened.

  Trudy Beitler stepped into the shack. She shut the door behind her. Mud caked the Wellington boots she wore, and debris littered her old jeans and checked shirt. She could have passed for a lumberjack except for the long gray braid hanging over one shoulder. Her gaze perused Reece, then moved on to Hannah, who stood with Caitlin wrapped around her like a little monkey.

  “Grandma Trudy!” Caitlin unwound her legs from Hannah and slid down to run to her grandmother.

  Trudy shoved her away. “Go back to your mother.”

  “Come here, Caitlin.” Hannah held out her arms. The older woman wasn’t here to rescue them. Hannah didn’t know how this whole plan was going to play out, but she realized Trudy was no ally.

  Her expression confused, Caitlin glanced back at Hannah, then up at her grandmother. “Are you going to take me home, Grandma?”

  “I told you to go to your mother. No, I’m not taking you home. You’re right where you should be.” She dropped the small cooler she carried onto the wooden floor.

  “Where were you?” Reece asked. “I did what you said and brought Hannah here. I thought you’d be here to say good-bye. I need to get going before Matt tracks us here.”

  “I think not. Sit.” She pointed at the cot. “You’ve done well, Reece,” she said. “You did everything I asked of you.”

  “Thanks for helping me figure this out, Trudy. But I didn’t need the kid after all. Hannah came back to me of her own free will.” His triumphant smile beamed from above his beard.

  Trudy glanced at Hannah, and the chill in her gaze froze Hannah’s veins. “I need you to run an errand, Reece. I forgot the money at the house. It’s in the cookie jar on top of the refrigerator.”

  “I’ve got enough. I don’t need it,” he said.

  “I want to make sure you have enough for a fresh start. Run get it, and then you can disappear. It won’t take long.”

  Hannah didn’t trust the other woman. She wanted to beg Reece not to leave her alone with Trudy, but he shrugged and went to the door.